Folks,

Dux:

They have found remnants of what must have been batteries in the ruins of ancient Greece. Amazing! How arrogant we are to think that everything was invented in the modern era. The ancients were as intelligent as we are. I can't help wondering what has been lost over the ages and what had to be re-invented.

My clearest memories only go back to the early 50s. No, not the 1850s. One very merry Christmas, I was overjoyed to find a tether controlled flying model of a P40 Tomahawk under our tree. I well remember that my freezing hands were made even colder by a fresh coating of aerogas. I recall having to attach that huge 8" long 6 V. Ray-O-Vac dry cell battery to the glow-plug terminals with little alligator clips. Batteries then were much larger then I think than today. Then there was the 'Throp', Throp', Thrrrop, as I patiently wound the prop around that handy little spring and released it over and over until... Brrrrrrrrrrrup...Beeeeeeeeee! Yikes!

The next thing I remember is a dull pain as that spinning plastic prop suddenly grazed my, stiff, cold fingers. My digits were so cold I hardly noticed the pain as I tried over and over to get that shark nosed devil into the air. Fortunately it was an all-plastic model assembled by using rather large rubber bands to hold its various parts together. When I eventually got her into the air and into a neighbor's tree it was quite easy to reassemble. Now that I think on it, I spent quite a lot of my youth up in trees. There was the fun of just climbing, there were apples to eat and many kites and model planes gone astray. It was a perfect vantage point for a young fellow such as I to imagine I was flying.

I don't know about you but without a mad dog threatening to bite me I just don't get in much tree climbing time these days. There are no more brightly colored kites stretching their cotton cords toward the heavens, no gliders testing the wind or brightly painted model rubber band driven aircraft to launch upon the fragrant thermals of summer. I do not wish to climb so much now. Perhaps I am close enough to Heaven at the moment, thank you very much, and getting closer every day.

So, I may never again, rather than in my fondest of childhood memories, climb toward the heavens, hand over hand, reaching from limb to limb, clinging happily to the rough bark of a ancient swaying Oak. Climbing up, up until I reach the narrow swinging top where I can look out upon the distant land below or peer at the passing clouds that are noticeably closer now and think to myself, this must be what is like to fly. I have really flown many times by now of course and, sadly, that is no longer a novelty. Although I no longer climb into the branches of our little grove of trees, I must admit to you, that having grown into adulthood, I have all too frequently found myself way out on a limb and about to saw it off behind me. But that my friend is something else altogether.

So there is a remake of "The Dam Busters" being talked about. I once had a computer game by that title and I have a VHS copy of that delightful film today. No doubt Hollywood will make a right mess of it. Alas, the recipe for an authentically historic film is not the same as one for a film that will actually make some money. Given the option, guess which version they will make? I am tired of being disappointed by film after film. The BoB film was an exception of course, except for those big nosed Spanish 109s. At least the real Hurris, Spits and He-111s were there. I'd hoped that now that so much can be done with CGI, thus eliminating the need for real hardware in all the shots, that more authentic films of the air battles of the two world wars might be produced.

LOLROFLMAO! Eddie Murphy as Gibson...I must say that is truly inspired casting. I'd have gone with Dinsel Washington myself but it's a toss up. And yes, even though I have never heard anyone in my family use that offensive word, even the name of the historically recorded mascot must be changed to protect the historically mistreated, the feeble minded or the semantically innocent. It is a dychotomy that some incendiary words are still acceptable in society and one or two others emphatically are not. Why is that?

The goose is a very good substitute however I think that a squirrel with a pile of nuts named "Cracker" might do just as well and he might even be easier for the wrangler to control. Besides that Old Chum, the term 'goose' does have that somewhat sexual connotation you know. We must protect the sensually naive and the uber sensitive blue haired crowd. Stillone is struggling these days to get a hit but still has great name recognition. So I think they should profit by using him and even get him cheap. Ummm. There might be a slight problem with the accent though. If the film is released over here there will have to be a hell of a lot of dubbing or we Americans won't be able to understand a thing he says. The last time I saw the lovely faced Dawn French she was enormous. I think she could easily stand in as the Moehne Dam.

Olga was one of the real Damn Busters? Really? I suppose that she would bounce pretty good. Did they drop her on a dam or perhaps close behind enemy lines to shoot out those pesky searchlights with a Trotsky single-shot UP-697 pea shooter firing .375 Kopensky explosive peas? Do tell us what she did? Inquiring minds need to know.